


Derivative

by ziplockbaggy



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 11:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11554338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziplockbaggy/pseuds/ziplockbaggy
Summary: Ben's thoughts and memories as he struggles post-breakup with Leslie, leading up to Smallest Park.There are times when his brain won’t quiet down and the only solution is to think back to his freshman year of calculus.





	Derivative

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on my LJ and I finally felt the urge to bring it over here. I hope you enjoy it! Originally posted October 2013 - http://ziplockbaggy.livejournal.com/19860.html

_**A derivative can be thought of as how much one quantity changes in response to changes in some other quantity.** _

Before Leslie, Ben had found it easy to fall asleep. It was also easy to stay up, but he found himself preferring a full night of sleep just in case Chris showed up at his room asking if he wanted to join him for an early morning run. Old habits die hard, he guesses.

There are times when his brain won’t quiet down and the only solution is to think back to his freshman year of calculus. In calculus, everything was simple. Numbers had effects on one another and their effects could easily be determined by a acting out a formula. Then there were derivatives. A derivative can be thought of as how much one quantity changes in response to changes in some other quantity. He spent a whole night cramped at his dorm room desk, working on memorizing derivatives. Eventually, they came easily to him and soon he realized that maybe numbers would be something he was good at. Numbers don’t have feelings and numbers don’t exile you for making mistakes. That’s where the people come in. Right now, it’s Leslie that crosses his mind and he picks through his memory to remember how to find the derivatives of sine and cosine until he doesn't feel so empty inside.

But now, it’s two in the morning and he’s lying on his back staring at the ceiling. The blankness mocks him, reminding him that he should start fresh, find someone else that doesn't require him to lie awake at night thinking of old formulas. There is nothing left of his relationship with Leslie. The thought makes him feel nervous so he flips himself over, shoving his face in the pillow. His mind refuses to shut up and it takes all of his strength not to scream into the fabric, letting it absorb the sound waves and feelings, hoping that this removes them from his mind.

_“Leslie, it’s 2 A.M, you need to go to sleep,” he mumbles from his pillow, elongating the word ‘sleep’ enough that Leslie rolls her eyes at him._

_“It’s my bed; I can do what I want,” she declares, propping herself up against the headboard. “And who I want, which you weren’t complaining about earlier.” Ben smiles at the memory and moves to drape his arm over Leslie’s stomach, impeding her attempts to continue typing on her computer._

_“Oh, I enjoyed our earlier activities,” he gets up to fully wrap his arms around her, placing a kiss on her temple. Leslie moves her laptop to the nightstand and leans into his embrace. She shifts her leg to rest it between his and Ben sighs contentedly._

_“Is it because of the caffeine or have you just always had this much energy?” he asks, twisting a piece of her hair in his hand._

_“I've been this way ever since I was a little girl, but the caffeine helps,” she says, grinning up at him. Wow, she’s beautiful. “There’s so much to do I just don’t have time for sleep. Just think,” she kisses him slowly, and Ben is intrigued, “there are so many other fun things to do in bed besides sleeping.” She leans in again, this time slowly running her tongue along his bottom lip._

_“Well how can I fight that,” he whispers against her lips. She giggles and he kisses her thoroughly, loving the soft sighs that she makes in the back of her throat._

The memory being a punch in the stomach, Ben quickly gets up from bed. Looking down he sees his pillow is wet from the tears. He turns away in disgust and heads towards the bathroom. At least if he cries in the tub, there’s no proof that there were ever any tears.

_**The process of finding a derivative is called differentiation. Differentiation is a method used to compute the rate of change at which a dependent output changes with respect to a change in the independent input.** _

Ben sinks down in the water, bending his knees so when his back slides along the tub his chin meets the water. He gets chills as his knees hit the air, but hell, at least he’s feeling something. Bubbles crackle as they move along the surface of the water, their smell reminding Ben of Leslie.  
“The process of finding a derivative is called differentiation,” he mumbles. He tells himself that it’s okay to cry. The tears don’t fall. _Differentiation is a method used to compute the rate of change at which a dependent output changes with respect to a change in the independent input._

He could kick himself.

_She’s sitting between his legs, her back resting comfortably against his chest. Lounging in the lukewarm water, Ben has felt his eyes close numerous times. His hand rests on top of Leslie’s thigh, the other dangling outside the water. Leslie shifts and he feels goosebumps rise on his skin where the water moves up along his chest. Having turned around, Leslie’s face is now inches from his, her smile wide. He reciprocates as her hand moves to grab his, removing it from her thigh and bringing it above water._

_“Your fingers are pruny,” she observes, running her smooth hands across his fingers._

_“I’m a raisin now: nature’s candy.” Leslie’s face pinches in response and she laughs._

_“Raisins are most definitely not a candy,” she says._

_“I know,” Ben agrees, “it’s just something Chris has always said.” Leslie makes a noise of disgust, but continues holding Ben’s hand, slowly massaging his knuckles._

_“Please don’t bring Chris’ name up when I’m naked with you.” Ben laughs and removes his hand from her grasp to run his fingers along her cheek. She giggles, shying away from his still pruny fingers._

_“Okay, never again. I promise.”_

_“Good.” She shows her approval by quickly kissing him. When she pulls back the look in her eyes is wistful and Ben’s only desire in the world is to kiss her more, so he does._

Ben jumps up, cursing when water falls over the sides of tub. He tells himself it’s okay to cry, rubs his face with his fists and feels the bath water from his hands cover up the tears on his face. Opening the drain, he watches the water spiral down, hoping feelings of depression and angst follow suit. Getting out of the tub he looks over to see he grabbed the shirt of his that Leslie always used to wear, realizes that feelings don’t flow away as easily as water does down a drain. 

_**If a function is differentiable at a certain point, then the function must also be continuous.** _

As she stands in front of him, looking as beautiful as ever in her red coat, he can barely muster the courage to look up at her. It’s difficult to look at her; it’s difficult to truly look at her, because if he really looks at her then he will want to hold her. He’ll remember holding her close while smoothing down her hair as she laughs at him. The cold bench beneath him brings him back to reality, a reality where he can’t touch her hair, causes him to recite in his head: _If a function is differentiable at a certain point, then the function must also be continuous._ How can she not see the trouble that she’s causing him? Before their relationship, he had problems being in close proximity to her because all he wanted to do was touch her. Now that he knows what it feels like to be surrounded by her, to hold her so close in the dark that he could rest his head in the crook between her neck and shoulders. It’s physically painful not to touch her. In moments where he’s close to her, he hopes she doesn't see his hands shake with the strain of not caressing her face, of not placing his hands on her shoulders to bring her down to earth when her mind is going a mile a minute with a new idea. Most of all, he thinks as he turns away from her, ready to leave knowing that it’s for the best, that he wants to hold her. He wants to hold her while she smiles, sweat lining her forehead as her blonde hair mattes the sides of her face. He wants to hold her while they watch CNN, her giggles quiet as she’s finally falling asleep and he’s whispering new political roleplaying ideas in her ear. 

But what he wants most is for her to still be happy in his arms.

_“Are you sure it’s safe for us to do this here?” Leslie asks him, the smile on her face betraying her worried tone as she grips his arm tight. He fumbles with the key in the door, laughing at himself as the keys fall to the ground._

_“April and Andy are at some concert tonight with Orin. If that’s not an all-night event then I don’t know what is,” he says, grabbing his keys off the ground. Leslie’s hand moves from his arm as she wraps her arms around his torso. Despite his hands shaking from excitement, he gets the door open and turns to bring her inside. Leslie shuts the door behind them and gasps when Ben presses her up against it. He kisses her passionately, one of his hands in her hair, the other bracing her lower back. As he pulls back, he grins and Leslie starts to laugh happily: a bubbly giggle that Ben has grown to need to survive a day. Before she can ask what brought that on, he answers, “I've wanted to do that for hours.”_

_“Well don’t stop now,” her arms around his neck, Leslie runs a hand through his hair. Her eyes are bright as she smiles back at him and he feels his heart overflow with feelings that he’s afraid to analyze. He moves his lips to her neck and kisses his way up to her cheeks; her giggles turn to sighs as she runs her hands down his sides slowly._

_“I do expect to be wined and dined before sex, though,” Leslie says, her body language stating the opposite, her hips grinding into his._

_“Of course, mademoiselle,” Ben finishes his sentence with a prompt kiss to her nose. He misses the body contact immediately as he moves towards the kitchen. She must feel likewise, he thinks as she wraps an arm around him while he opens the fridge. “I would love to make you waffles, but Andy recently conducted a science experiment involving our waffle maker, so I still don’t think it’s safe to use.” Leslie just nods in understanding._

_“I demand grilled cheese sandwiches, then.”_

_“It would be my pleasure.”_

_And when she’s on top of him, moaning his name because no one is around to hear, he feels dizzy. But more like a pleasant disorientation, like spinning around in circles until you can’t stand upright, just for the fun of it. She moves slowly, and he feels like screaming because every part of him wants to sit up so he can kiss her. She holds her hands steady on his chest, smiling wickedly because she knows she’s won this unspoken game of theirs. Resting his hands just above Leslie’s hipbones, Ben finds an upper hand in the game. He squeezes lightly and Leslie gasps, laughing from being tickled and Ben deftly moves her so he’s on top of her. When he tilts her hips up at just the right angle, her breaths quicken. His brain feels fuzzy and it’s a magnificent feeling when he’s sated with Leslie wrapped around him, giggling softly on his chest._

_“What?” He asks, brushing her hair away from her face. He’ll never get over her beautiful hair._

_“Nothing! I’m just really happy right here,” she tells him._

“This is how I feel, how do you feel?” she asks him, eyes so full of concern. Every happy moment with Leslie floods his conscience and he wants to kiss her until she’s the happiest she can be in his arms. 

So he does.


End file.
